Everybody Lies Nobody Cares
by J.Vengeance
Summary: At that moment, he didn’t even care why House always lied. All he wanted to know is why he couldn’t bring himself to lie back. HouseWilson! First fic! Please review
1. Ranch Tastes Better

**Hey all! How do ya do? I'm Jeni V and this is the first story I've posted on in three years! (don't go looking for the other one, it's under a different penname and it's CRAP). So yeah...just so ya know, most of this story was written in hours after midnight so if things sound a little off...well, you know why.**

**Title:** Everybody Lies. Nobody Cares.

**Author:** Jeni V

**Rating:** I said M, for language, sexual talk, and because I don't know where this is heading wink

**Pairing:** House/Wilson

**Summary:** _At that moment, he didn't even care why House always lied. All he wanted to know is why he couldn't bring himself to lie back. _When House seems to believe Cuddy is hitting on him, he realizes something shocking. But he won't tell Wilson the truth. After all, everybody lies. But does anyone care? House/Wilson

**Disclaimer: **I don't own House M.D. or its characters but I'd like to think that if I did, the show would still be awesome.

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Greg House sat inside his glass office on a Monday afternoon. Jazz poured out of his stereo and his foot tapped absentmindedly to the rhythm. Pressing his fingers together and resting his elbows on the armrests, he pondered heavily over a quite dramatic issue.

Was Cuddy coming onto him?

She definitely seemed to be coming onto him. House was positive what with her obviously flirtatious, "Do you like me, House?" and her obviously flirtatious headshaking and her obviously flirtatious…well, er, breasts. House shook his head, physically attempting to get rid off those tantalizing yet judgment-skewing thoughts.

House had always thought Cuddy to be attractive, of course. The way his aqua blue eyes followed her ass and the line of her cleavage made it all too obvious. But still, something didn't quite feel right about the whole situation. She was definitely insinuating something. House knew that quite well. But…now that she made that obvious, he suddenly found her a little less attractive. After all, Greg House wanted to chase his whores before submitting them to his will.

As images of brothel houses began to litter his mind, House's stereo stopped playing music. He forgot to put the CD on repeat. Sighing, he stood up, using his cane to press the OFF button. Having nothing to do since he was running away from Cuddy's evil, clinic duty-delivering twin, he wandered out of his office and down the hall.

Letting his feet and cane guide him, he let his mind run off somewhere else. To the land of dramatic, Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital issues. Sigh, House was beginning to believe his life could be a television show. He took a deep breath and was about to ask himself more Cuddy-related questions when suddenly, his feet stopped. House looked up and focused on the name upon the wooden office door.

James Wilson, M.D.

Doctor of Oncology

House stared. Something clicked within some insignificant part of his mind at the sight of the frosted white name directly before him. But, House being House he disregarded it and barged through the door, quelling the hopeful feeling he got knowing Wilson kept his door unlocked.

James Wilson looked up from his lunch with a slightly surprised look. Upon realizing it was no other than his supposed best friend (he still asked himself how that came to be), his brow furrowed and a spicy insult shot to the tip of his tongue. But before he could open his mouth, the voice of his current annoyance rang out.

"If a woman with tits big enough to stop you in your tracks practically gives you bedroom eyes and you're not entirely aroused, does that make you gay?" The venomous sarcasm in House's attitude hid his need to get a serious answer.

It was Wilson's turn to stare. House looked practically comical in the way he stood; his cane making him look dignified and yet his overly contemplative expression as he stared at the ceiling stole his urbane appearance. Wilson gave him a look that purely said, "What the f-?"

"Uh. Uh, what?" Wilson asked, stuttering in confusion. House walked over to the front of Wilson's desk and grabbed the fork that lay against his salad tray. Wilson opened his mouth to retort but House had already begun savagely stabbing his lunch and eating everything he got onto the fork. Wilson sighed, noting to lock his door next time he ate lunch. House dropped the fork and stood up, making a slight look of disgust.

"Get ranch dressing next time, you deprived fool." He said, smacking his lips in annoyance at the oil dressing glossing them. Wilson glared at the man before him before changing the subject.

"Where is this coming from?" he said. House raised an eyebrow at the oncologist.

"Well see, both dressings will kill you but ranch tastes better."


	2. Foreplay

**So yeah, I'm posting chapter 2 already! It didn't seem as eye-catching with one chappie so I went, what the hey? why not? Review and tell me what ya think!**

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_"Well see, both dressings will kill you but ranch tastes better."_

Wilson smirked. "Not that. I meant the, the gay question." Wilson silently wondered why he stuttered again when he noted that House's eyes suddenly seemed to change color.

There was a slight pause in the air before House took a breath and explained his situation. "Well, you see, I was watching that frighteningly addictive Queer Eye for the Straight Guy show and the woman married to the said 'straight guy' had massively large tits and was _definitely_ hitting on Carson but he didn't react at all. Does that make him gay?" What? Everybody lies, remember?

Wilson slowly raised an eyebrow at House and wondered what pills he had gotten a hold of. But suddenly his obliviousness was overwhelmed by a new fact. He stood up, an incredulous expression on his face.

"House, you're lying!" Wait, that wasn't it. House raised an eyebrow back at his friend.

"And this is…shocking?"

"No," Wilson agreed. "But you're lying horribly!" He smiled.

"Now, wait a minute-" House started.

"You're insecure." Wilson stated, his voice quieting at the revelation. The room fell silent.

"I'm _what_?!" House said, taken aback. Wilson put his hands on his hips.

"You're being insecure." He repeated. "This must be some really big secret, House. Because that lie was ridiculously horrible. In fact, I wish I had a video camera in here just so I could show the rest of the hospital what an absolutely _horrible_ excuse that was!"

"Okay, now your just mocking me, Wilson. Stop with the foreplay." House said, looking slightly miffed that even the horrendously ignorant James Wilson could see through his ruse.

"So who's the woman?" James asked, genuinely curious. House shrugged.

"How should I know?"

Wilson gave him a stern glare. "We've already established you're lying, House. Who is it?"

"It was a rhetorical question. One of my patients wanted to know." House said, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Which patient?" Wilson asked.

"The one I'm working on for my case today." House answering, blatantly lying through the skin of his teeth.

"You don't have a case today." Wilson said matter-of-factly. House's eyes widened. 'Dammit!' He thought.

"How do _you_ know?"

Wilson smiled in a very mysterious, out-of-character way that made House blink twice to be sure he was looking at the right person. "I just happened to see today when I went to talk to Cuddy earlier." Wilson answered, then added, "Which reminds me, she said you were supposed to be doing clinic duty?" House coughed.

"I-yes!" House spluttered. He meant to be sarcastic and say 'I have no idea what you're talking about.' but realized that it was a perfect time to build another story. He sighed dramatically. "You caught me! Damn, and I thought I'd gotten away with it." He said, smiling on the inside. "I was actually at clinic duty and one of my patients _there_ asked me that random gay question. They weren't exactly up for my sarcastic wit so I decided to get a professional opinion from you. You know, so I wouldn't giggle."

Wilson's eyes narrowed. "And you felt the need to lie to me _because_?"

"Foreplay, Wilson. Remember?" House said with that constant tone of sarcasm. Wilson sighed and did his trademark habit of pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

"I don't know _how_ I put up with you." He muttered.

"It's your deep-seated love for me." House pouted innocently. Wilson ignored him, sitting back down and continuing to eat his salad.

"You know," Wilson started, his mouth full. "I don't know why you don't ask Cuddy this question. I'm sure she'd be willing to answer considering she's a…uhm, large-breasted woman." House paused. Wilson noticed. Swallowing his food, he observed the man before him. It was time for a test. "In fact, you should go ask Cuddy, stop bothering me."

"Ah, I couldn't. No reason for it." House stated, brushing off the idea with a small wave of his hand. "Besides, I didn't get an answer from you." Wilson pondered. Something didn't seem right. House was being too vague. Not that he wasn't always vague but…if there was ever an opportunity for Dr. Greg House to ridicule a patient, he'd take it, no question. He seemed to be focusing on getting the answer far too much. At this thought, Wilson started to wonder just how well he knew House for him to be evaluating him so thoroughly. It wasn't like he really cared if House thought himself to be gay…

Did he? Wilson paused at this thought. But he immediately pushed it to the back of his mind. He was thinking too far, too fast. Time to answer House's question.

"Uhm…are you gay if you're not aroused by a…large-breasted woman who wants to have sex with you?" Wilson asked to be sure.

"In proper, less profane English, exactly." House nodded. Wilson thought about the question carefully.

"Well…honestly, I don't think so. If she's got a bad personality then in most cases it doesn't really matter how big her breasts are." Keyword: in most cases.

House gave a deep exhale, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding. Wilson raised an eyebrow. Something was definitely going on.

"Well, thanks, Jimmy. That sounds good. Now I just have to make it convincing for my patient." At that, House quickly left the room. Well, as fast as he could considering he was a cripple.

House walked back towards his office. 'Hmm…' he thought to himself. 'If she's got a bad personality…well, that explains it.' As he swung open his glass door, he didn't notice the eyes that followed him.

With a furrowed brow, Wilson stood against the threshold of his office door. "When does House ever tell me the truth?…" he whispered aloud. Shaking his head, he turned back into his office, locked the door, and continued his lunch.


	3. A Woman's Intuition

**Yo! New chappie up! I dunno if many are reading this, but if you are, do tell! My quickness of chappies relies on the reviewers!!!**

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Two hours later found House sitting in his chair and hitting the repeat button on his stereo. Sweet jazz continued to pour out of the speakers and House felt a little more at peace with life. He had managed to avoid clinic duty all day and Cuddy didn't come to check on him once. Cameron did but she didn't matter. Chase did too but…he didn't matter much either. Wilson didn't check on him.

Wilson mattered.

House huffed to himself, rubbing his temples in irritation. Spinning in his chair, he stared out the window. The blinds were pulled back and he could freely see the bleak, grey sky and the raindrops running down the glass.

He liked Cuddy. Honestly, he did. He'd do her like that. Snap of the fingers. But…something really didn't feel right about it.

"Is it because she's my boss?" he thought aloud. Immediately, he laughed. Like that was a good excuse. Pondering the question, for House ponders a lot, he realized he wouldn't really do anyone right now except a good hooker. "That still doesn't explain why I wouldn't do her.

"Maybe I'm looking too much into this. It was only a look, after all. And a few words…and the lack of bra thing…" He shook his head vigorously. No need for those thoughts. The thoughts were arousing…

So why wasn't the idea of having sex with her as equally arousing? House pouted, frustrated. He figured it had to be because she was being too forward. It was much more fun to chase her ass when she disagreed with it. House sighed. He was thinking too much like a rapist now.

But a rapist is at least alert enough to notice when someone opens a door. House found out he disqualified in that area when a voice angrily alerted him to their presence.

"House!"

Flinching, House spun around, coming directly in contact with the object of his thought processes. Well…objects.

Lisa Cuddy stood in front of House's desk, her hands on her hips and a furious expression on her face. House made sure that the first thing he took in, though, was the fact that she was wearing a luxuriously low-cut, light pink top underneath a professional, and yet still tight, red blazer.

"Oh God, I ask you for someone to care and you send me _this_?" House asked the ceiling. "Shame on you."

"House, where have you been all day?! And don't tell me you've been talking to God." Cuddy said vehemently. House sighed. This part played every day like a broken record.

Meanwhile, Wilson was walking out of a patient's room. He shut the door quietly behind him. He was just about sick and tired of seeing so many cancer cases in one day. He walked down the hall towards the clinics. He saw Foreman standing at the front desk, rummaging through patient forms.

"Hey." Foreman said, noticing the brunette doctor walking towards him. Wilson nodded his hello.

"Has House been in here at all today?" Wilson asked casually. Foreman hesitated for a moment, thinking.

"No." A voice said behind the two doctors. Wilson turned to see Cameron looked quite angry as she perused a clipboard in her hands. "He's been holed up in his office all day. I checked on him once, he wouldn't say a word to me." She sighed. "It's not really all that surprising now that I think about it but I didn't even get a sarcastic remark out of him."

"Now that's surprising." Foreman said, still rummaging. Cameron nodded.

"He just stared out the window, listening to his stereo." She shrugged, becoming curious towards a section of writing on the clipboard.

"Cuddy hasn't said anything to him?" Wilson asked.

"I just saw her heading in that direction, actually." Foreman said. "Come to think of it, she did look pretty pissed off." Wilson nodded.

"Well thanks guys. I guess I'll go see him." Wilson started to head off towards House's office when Cameron spoke.

"Are you doing all right, Wilson?"

Wilson turned, curious. "Yes. Why?" Cameron stared for a moment and then shrugged.

"I don't know. You just seem more preoccupied than usual."

"Oh. Well…I'm fine. Thank you though." Wilson said, turning away and continuing towards House's office. Damn a woman's intuition.


	4. God Lies Too, Y'know

**A/N: Ahhh, haven't updated in forever but shrug it happens...hopefully I'll get more reviews! haha lots of angsty fighting coming up, do review!**

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As Wilson approached House's office, he could see Cuddy furiously motioning her arms about. Foreman wasn't joking, she looked really pissed off. But of course, if House was involved, it wasn't a shocker. House looked downright ignorant of Cuddy's ranting, but in the end it seemed to be him who succeed for she stormed out of his office and right past Wilson. Wilson followed her with his eyes, slightly frightened. You'd be frightened too if an outraged Cuddy was heading right for you and then just passes you by. You feel like the prey the lion just didn't feel like killing that day.

Wilson faced forward again, looking into House's office. House had turned the chair back to the window so all the oncologist could see was the broad leather backing. He sighed and walked towards the glass room.

"Well, that was entirely pointless." House muttered. Though he was glad to see that Cuddy's outbursts and lectures hadn't changed, he was still annoying at the whole 'lack-of-being-aroused' issue. He was probably going through a psychological phase but House knew too well that House doesn't go through psychological phases. Besides, that wasn't the only thing bothering him. Wilson still hadn't come to see him yet. It was 4:30 and House felt Wilson's attention needed to be given to him now. On a silver platter most preferably.

And for once, God agreed.

"House." This voice was quieter than the voice that had addressed him earlier. It was deeper, gentler, and overall, much more pleasing. Yet it still rang with a familiar hint of anger that was always directed towards him. Nonetheless, House couldn't quell the pleasant shock and the slight twisting of his stomach that began once that voice reached his ears.

He spun around in his chair for what seemed like the millionth time that afternoon and looked into the dark brown eyes of his intruder. Wilson sat in the chair directly across the desk, casually lounging back into the shallow cushioning. House noticed the weary lines of frustration on the young doctor's face and knew he did something wrong. But before he could open his mouth to even say some sort of sarcastic comment about his friend's tie, he was stopped.

"Why did you lie to me?" Oh, that. "No, wait," Wilson continued, his voice rising steadily, "Why did you lie to me…how many times? Three? Yes. Why did you lie to me _three_ times, House?" House almost felt bad. Wilson really looked disappointed. He was the only one that could make House feel bad for his actions on a daily basis. Still, that didn't stop him.

"And what did I lie about?" House asked.

Wilson groaned aloud, propping his elbows on the armrests and putting his face into his hands. "I know you didn't go do your clinic duty, House." He told his palms. He ran his hands up into his hair, running his fingers through it. He looked up at House expectantly. House looked down at his computer keyboard. His brow was furrowed and Wilson could clearly see lines of mild annoyance etched on his face. Wilson's expression became a slight more gentle. "Just tell me the truth, House."

But House wasn't giving up so easily. "Why do you even care, Jimmy?" he asked, sounding more acidic than he meant to. He adjusted his jacket in irritation, and in doing so, ran over the bottle of pills in his breast pocket. Suddenly those pills seemed like a sweet, sweet release.

Without any regard for his friend sitting before him, House pulled the bottle from the inside pocket and popped it open, pouring a random amount of the capsules into his palm. Wilson made a noise of surprise but that's all he could get out before House popped the pills into his mouth.

"House!" Wilson said, shocked. House placed the bottle back into the inner breast pocket.

"What?" he asked ignorantly.

Wilson stared, mouth agape for a few moments, before standing up and pacing slowly, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That really is a bad habit of yours, you know." House said, following the oncologist's gait with his eyes.

"House…"

"Seriously. You'll get indentations on the sides of your nose and you'll look really funny. Like those idiot tourists in Florida with the sunglasses impressions and the weird tans."

"You really need to stop with the pills, House. I don't care how addicted you are, I…" Wilson paused, letting his hand drop and turning to House. "You can't keep running away from issues by popping pills." Wilson knew the subject was worn out but he couldn't help but be stressed out by it.

The older doctor's expression suddenly became very serious and slightly blank. "How many times are we going to have this conversation, Jimmy? I've been on trial, been in rehab, been overdosed, and betrayed by my closest friends. Do you really think if you told me to stop now, it would change anything?" As he spoke, House could feel his inhibitions melting away. The little talk of his addiction began to boil his blood. "I'm sick and tired of people telling me to stop. That's why most people don't tell me anymore. In fact," House said, standing up as his voice grew more volatile. "you're the only one who insists on being such a pain in my ass!"

Wilson's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Have you ever considered the fact that maybe it's because I'm your only source of rational thought? I'm your goddamn conscience! Everyone knows I have to be since you obviously never had one!"

"Why do you care?" House repeated, the acidity in his voice intentional. "I don't see-"

"Because I'm the only one who does!" Wilson interrupted, his stress taking full rein on his thought. House stared. "I'm the only one cares what happens to you on a daily basis, Greg. When you're on your deathbed, then everyone will worry and cry. But I'm the only one who worries every damn day! When I go home, I wonder if when I wake up, you won't be at work because you're dead of an overdose. When I see you popping pills, I feel like…like that's all that matters to you. That's why I'm always going on about every little thing. I want to know because I fucking care."

The silence in the air was deafening. Wilson took to staring tearfully at a scratch on the wall. House stared definitively at Wilson's shoulder.

"Get out of my office." He whispered quietly. Wilson closed his eyes, frowning. He ran his right hand through his hair and looked at House. He laughed bitterly and slowly shook his head. Taking a deep breath, he looked as if he was going to say something. But his shoulders just relaxed and he turned away, walking out of the office. At that moment, he didn't even care why House always lied. All he wanted to know is why he couldn't bring himself to lie back.

After Wilson left, House sat down in his chair, rubbing his bad leg habitually. Now he had another problem to add to his pity list: He and Wilson were fighting now.

"All because little Jimmy decided to care about the big bad doctor…" House muttered darkly. He looked up at the ceiling again. "Oh God, I ask you for someone to care and you _listened_?!" House sighed.

"You should know better."

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**A/N: Tell me what you think!**


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